Chapter 4: Deleted But Not Forgotten

Darren settled into his cramped economy seat on the overnight flight to New York, checking his watch: 11:47 PM Geneva time. The irony of flying commercial while in the midst of a UN controversy wasn't lost on him. As other passengers stowed their luggage and flight attendants prepared for takeoff, Darren felt oddly exposed, wondering if anyone recognized him from the news.

A middle-aged woman in clergy attire took the seat next to him, and Darren felt his chest tighten. She glanced at him, then did a double-take. "You're him, aren't you? The UN official who..."

"I prefer not to discuss it," Darren cut her off, perhaps more sharply than intended. The woman's expression hardened, and she pointedly turned away, pulling out a prayer book.

Once the seatbelt sign was off, he pulled out his phone, switching it to airplane mode but unable to resist scrolling through his downloaded emails and saved articles. The cabin's dim lighting and the quiet hum of the engines created a cocoon of isolation, allowing him to immerse himself in the digital aftermath of his actions.

His stomach churned as he read the latest headlines:

The Guardian: "UN Communications Officer's Anti-Religious Posts Spark Global Debate on Free Speech"

Al Jazeera: "Religious Leaders Demand UN Reform After Official's Controversial Posts"

Le Monde: "Digital Privacy vs. Public Accountability: The UN's Social Media Dilemma"

Darren closed the article with a grimace. What had started as his personal criticism of religious institutions was being weaponized in the ongoing culture war between East and West. He opened his archived posts from "The 13th Apostle" group, each one now feeling like a live grenade in his hands.

The woman beside him peered at his screen, making no effort to hide her interest. "So you're the one who thinks churches should burn," she said, her voice carrying enough to draw attention from nearby passengers.

Darren lowered his screen brightness. "That's not what I..." he began, then stopped himself. What was the point of explaining context to someone who'd already made up their mind?

He spent the rest of the flight alternating between fitful sleep and reviewing his downloaded emails, each archived post from "The 13th Apostle" group now feeling like a live grenade in his hands.

As the plane touched down at JFK, passengers around him began the usual rush to retrieve bags and phones. The cabin filled with the familiar chorus of devices reconnecting to the network, alert sounds pinging through the aircraft. Darren's phone buzzed several times in quick succession as delayed messages and notifications flooded in.

Among them, a message from an unknown number caught his eye:

"Mr. Melvik, 

Your posts didn't just go viral by chance. Someone wanted them to spread. Ask yourself why. And watch out for Stankevičs - he's not done with you yet.

- A friend"

The message disappeared as soon as he finished reading it, leaving Darren staring at his regular message list. He tried to recover it, but there was no trace of the mysterious text.

As passengers slowly filed out of the plane, still waiting in the aisle, another notification popped up: "Join Fox News Live: 'The UN's War on Christianity - Special Report with Tucker Carlson'"

Darren's hand trembled slightly as he opened the saved transcript of the show from earlier that day. Tucker's monologue was predictably inflammatory:

"Good evening and welcome to Tucker Carlson Tonight. What happens when global institutions meant to protect world peace become vehicles for attacking religious faith? Tonight, we expose how your tax dollars are funding anti-Christian bigotry at the United Nations..."

The taxi ride from JFK to his Manhattan hotel gave Darren time to properly digest the full scope of social media reactions. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since landing, and beyond Tucker Carlson's hyperbole, the real story was unfolding in the digital realm.

He winced as he scrolled through the vitriolic comments, the threats, and the calls for his dismissal. The same posts he'd made, now stripped of their original context, were being reinterpreted and weaponized by various factions.

"You godless UN scum! Hope you burn in hell!" read one comment.

Another threatened, "If I ever see you, I'll show you what real Christian justice looks like."

A more measured but equally chilling comment stated, "As a taxpayer, I demand that my money not fund the salary of someone who mocks my faith. #FireDarrenMelvik"

The taxi driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "You look familiar, mister. Been on the news or something?"

Darren shifted uncomfortably. "Just some work-related press. I'm with the UN."

"The UN?" The driver perked up. "You know, my cousin works there. Says it's all politics now, no real humanitarian work anymore. That true?"

Darren felt a wave of defensiveness rise within him. "It's complicated," he said tersely. "There's still good work being done, but yes, the politics can be... challenging." He turned back to his phone, hoping to end the conversation.

A tweet from Richard Dawkins caught his eye:

@RichardDawkins: "Disappointing to see UNHCR throw an employee under the bus for a bit of religious critique. When did the UN become so beholden to religious sensibilities? #IStandWithMelvik"

The tweet was a follow-up to Dawkins' nuanced article from the day before, where he had argued that while Darren's post was in poor taste, the reaction to it demonstrated the dangerous hold religious institutions still had on public discourse.

The tweet quickly gained traction, with responses ranging from passionate support to outright condemnation. Ricky Gervais joined the conversation with his characteristic bite:

@rickygervais: "A UN guy makes a joke about burning churches and everyone loses their minds. Meanwhile, actual churches are banning books and trying to censor what kids can read in schools. But sure, the joke's the problem. #IStandWithMelvik"

The hashtag #IStandWithMelvik was trending globally, spawning countless memes and heated debates. Atheist groups and free speech advocates rallied behind it, while religious organizations launched the counter-hashtag #DefendTheFaith. Some users shared their own experiences of religious institutional control, while others posted photos of historic churches with captions defending religious heritage.

A political cartoonist's take went viral: a drawing of a UN building shaped like a church, with various religious leaders pulling strings attached to the windows and doors. The caption read: "Who's really in charge?"

Meanwhile, conservative commentators were quick to frame Dawkins' support as proof of a larger secular conspiracy. "First they mock our faith, then they defend the mockers," wrote one popular religious blogger. "This isn't about free speech - it's about normalizing anti-religious bigotry."

Darren opened his archived posts from "The 13th Apostle" group, including the infamous poll about oral sex and Christianity:

"Is oral sex allowed for Christians?

a) Only if it leads to conversion

b) Yes, but confess immediately after

c) Only during group sex if all other orifices are occupied

d) Only for priests with altar boys

e) No, sex is for procreation only"

Darren remembered creating this poll after a heated debate about religious sexual morality. It was meant to be a satirical commentary on the absurdity of micromanaging sexual behavior based on religious doctrine. The group had been discussing how various religions, particularly conservative interpretations of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism, attempt to control every aspect of human sexuality.

With trembling fingers, he opened the email from OpUNleaks@anonymousmail.com:

"Mr. Melvik,

We are Anonymous. We have obtained internal UN communications regarding your case. The contents may be of interest to you. Attached is a sample. Full disclosure will be made public in 48 hours.

Expect us."

The sample memo made his blood run cold:

"While Mr. Melvik's posts are undoubtedly problematic, they provide an opportunity to reaffirm the UN's commitment to religious tolerance. Recommend pursuing maximum punitive action to set an example, regardless of the actual severity of the infraction."

As the taxi pulled up to his hotel, Darren's phone buzzed with another message. This one was from Cardinal Robert Sarah: "Mr. Melvik? This is Cardinal Sarah. I believe we need to talk. Your posts have caused great pain to many of the faithful. But I believe in redemption. Meet with me in New York. Perhaps we can find a way to turn this situation into an opportunity for understanding and reconciliation."

The doorman opened his taxi door, but Darren sat frozen, his mind racing. The Cardinal's offer seemed conciliatory, but after seeing the Anonymous leak, he couldn't help but wonder: was this another trap? And why was one of the most conservative Cardinals in the Catholic Church reaching out to him directly?

The lobby of the Millennium Hilton was mercifully quiet at this late hour. Darren barely registered the check-in process, his mind still reeling from the Anonymous leak and the Cardinal's message. The young receptionist's eyes widened slightly when she saw his name - another sign that his notoriety had spread further than he'd imagined.

In his room, Darren sat at the desk, looking past his laptop screen to the UN building across the street. Its illuminated facade reflected off the East River, a reminder of both the institution's aspirations and its compromises. 

His laptop chimed - a new email from Andris, the founder of "The 13th Apostle" group:

"Darren, I'm so sorry. We've identified the leak. It was a new member, someone who joined just a week before your church post. We think they were a plant, possibly from a religious organization looking for dirt on UN employees. I feel terrible. This is all my fault for not vetting new members more carefully."

Darren's mind reeled. A plant? Had he been set up? The paranoia that had been simmering since this whole ordeal began suddenly boiled over. Who else might be watching him? What other aspects of his private life might be weaponized against him?

Scrolling through social media reactions to his case, Darren found his old meme comparing the Pope to Darth Vader had resurfaced and gone viral. The image showed the Pope in his regalia side by side with Darth Vader, captioned:

"One is the leader of an ancient order with unquestioning followers, immense wealth, and a history of violence. The other is Darth Vader."

At the time, it had seemed like a clever critique of the Catholic Church's power structures. Now it was being used as evidence of his "deep-seated hatred for religious institutions."

His phone buzzed with a text from his mother: "Your aunt Barbara just called crying because her prayer group is talking about you. Is this how you repay your grandparents who fled Latvia to give us a better life? We'll talk when you're ready to apologize to God and your family."

A notification from The New York Times caught his attention: "Breaking News: Vatican Sources Reveal Coordinated Response to UN Official's Posts"

Before he could open it, his phone suddenly lit up with another anonymous message:

"The NYT story is a smokescreen. The real story is in the UN's internal communications. Check your email in 3... 2... 1..."

Right on cue, a new email arrived. The sender address was different from the previous Anonymous message: truthseeker@anonymous.com. Subject line: "The UN's Dirty Secrets - Your Eyes Only."

His phone buzzed again - a text from Zara: "Don't open that email from truthseeker until you talk to me. I've uncovered something big. This goes way beyond your Facebook posts."

Tomorrow would bring his meeting with the Secretary-General, but tonight, in this hotel room, Darren Melvik had to decide: would he burn it all down to expose the truth, or try to preserve what was left of the institution he'd once believed in?

His cursor still hovered over the email. Sometimes, he thought, the only way to illuminate is to burn.